Stolen
by AnimalGurl12
Summary: WIP: Fate wants Spock and Kirk to be together, as One, even if Jim fights against it. He never was known for being a quitter, but you can't really win against the Cosmos. Sadly, he'll have to figure that out the hard way. Eventual K/S; slow building.
1. Chapter 1

**Stolen**

**Written by: TrekkieGirl12**

* * *

Summary: Spending time at the beach with some of his crew, Jim contemplates how his First Officer had stolen his heart. Somewhat angsty.

A/N: I kinda made this, as my way of showing how nuTrek is taking Star Trek in the direction that Roddenberry did not have it. Some may say that Spock and Kirk were close like brothers; certainly. But I would like to believe it was much more than that; that they truly _loved _one another. This is my little attempt at showing how having Spock with Uhura has taken from Kirk what was rightfully his.

A/N: I was inspired to write this upon visiting Lanaea's "Home", and seeing the SEE Trek Love movement, in which they are trying to keep that romantic element between Spock and Kirk in the movies. Consider this my little way of saying, "Keep Kirk/Spock Alive, Hollywood!" ;)

**Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me. Lyrics belong to the song "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional.**

* * *

-

_We watch the season pull up its own stakes  
And catch the last weekend of the last week  
Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced,  
Another sun soaked season fades away…_

_-_

The warm sand slid between his toes, and he looked down at his feet, wiggling the small appendages almost as if he were conducting an experiment. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards momentarily, before he became aware of it, and straightened it out.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, the young Captain tilted his head upwards, welcoming the heat from the Californian sun to caress his face. A breeze flew through the beach front, gently blowing the golden strands of his hair wildly about his head. His murky blue eyes scanned out over the great body of water, out to the horizon, his long gold lashes casting faint shadows over the hollows of his cheekbones.

Like small, inky black dots, he could just make out the multitude of seagulls swooping and diving out over the ocean, far off into the horizon. Distantly, he mused that only a few days ago, he had been doing the same as the seagulls were doing now: flying. But then they were scheduled for routine ship maintenance, and so now they were grounded to Earth for awhile.

James T. Kirk was abruptly pulled out of his silent thoughts by the loud laughter coming from behind him. Curious, he turned his upper body, to look out over his shoulder for the source of the noise. Further inland on the beach's shore, his eyes found it. Some of his crew had decided to join him to a trip to the beach when he'd offered, and it seemed that now they were taking advantage of it, rather than staring silently out over the water, as he had been currently doing.

A large beach umbrella had been firmly stamped into the sand, casting adequate shade for the four people under it; Sulu, Chekov, the nurse, Christine Chapel was her name, and Bones. While Sulu and Chekov looked like they were enjoying themselves, heaving clumps of sand at each other, Christina looked slightly put out as she was leaning forward, obviously eager to tell Bones something. However, Bones was sitting with his hands firmly crossed over his chest, his signature scowl marring his otherwise handsome face.

Jim resisted a smile.

And then his eyes flickered ever so briefly, as another scene unfolded before him. Trotting down the sandy shore, towards the four under the umbrella. Uhura, wearing a two piece bikini, showing off her beautiful brown skin, a smile on her face. She waved heartily at the group, and Christine's face melted into one of relief as she got to her feet, and went to embrace the African woman in a hug.

But that wasn't what had captured Jim's eyes, as though his eyes were metal being drawn to a magnet.

Trailing behind Uhura with calm, gracefully measured steps was his half-Vulcan First Officer, Spock.

-

_You have stolen my heart_

-

Just the mere sight of him made Jim's chest tighten, and he had to close his eyes against the vision before him, to restore some resemblance of balance to his now scattered thoughts.

_Give it up, Jimmy…_Jim thought to himself. He reopened his eyes, to get another glimpse of his First Officer, not forgetting how his body was affected whenever the half-Vulcan was anywhere near him. Jim had to admit he was a masochist; even though his body ached and begged to have some kind of physical reassurance with the aloof Vulcan, he denied it, but always indulged in being in Spock's presence.

It was like Jim was an alcoholic, and Spock was the rarest of fine wines, being dangled in his face every so often.

And like a sick bastard, Jim didn't try to fight it.

-

_Invitation only, grand farewells  
Crash the best one, of the best ones  
Clear liquor and cloudy eyed, too early to say goodnight_

-

Jim watched as Spock came to stand right behind Uhura, his hands folded behind his back. While everyone else wore beach attire, Spock was of course wearing all black; black turtle-neck, long black pants that had the bottoms encased in knee length black boots. All of the black made his pale skin stand out even more.

He looked almost ethereal.

A sharp pain raced through Jim's chest as he witnessed Uhura turning to reach her arm out and wrap it around Spock's waist, drawing him closer to her. Even from his distant spot, Jim's eyes caught the slight tensing of Spock's body.

But Spock didn't fight Uhura; he just stepped closer to her.

Jim let out a heavy breath, already feeling the heaviness starting to weigh him down. He knew he was in far too deep; that he was practically drowning in his affections for the Vulcan.

But despite the fact that he was in over his head, he couldn't help but take pleasure in it; a twisted, dark pleasure that was sated whenever he had to witness Uhura and Spock's affections.

Uhura was taking a seat next to Christine, and Jim watched as Spock asked Bones something. Bones scowled again, and then pointed in his direction. Jim saw Spock lift his head and look over at him.

And then he was just staring. He made no move to come over; he just stood there, motionless. His hair ruffled from the now constant breeze.

Jim turned back around to look out at the ocean again.

The ocean was huge; never ending, with so much life in it, that even today with all of the technology at their disposal; humans had yet to discover all of the vast organisms in its depths.

That was what Jim felt. That all of the complexities of Spock was like the ocean; it looked so calm on the surface, but once you got underneath it, you could only be amazed by the depth and beauty of it.

Jim had first been tantalized by Spock's nature on the bridge during the Nero event, which seemed so long ago now. When Spock had lashed out at him, forced him against the console with his strong hands around his neck.

Of course, Jim did not want Spock choking him again any time soon, preferably not at all, but what had first gotten him intrigued was the _power. _When he'd been bent over that console, staring up into the blackness of Spock's eyes, he could see, like smoky swirls, the power.

And Jim couldn't honestly tell what the power was of; maybe his strength as he had held him down, or the rage that he was exposing to the entire stunned crew, or of the hurt that seemed to hang on his features, making his exotically beautiful face seem aged.

Then it had all been over, and Jim was left on the floor, coughing as he tried to pull air into his depleted lungs.

When Spock had stormed out of the bridge after resigning from command, Jim knew he was forever hooked.

If Spock had that much power in his hate and anguish, how much power would he have in his love and devotion?

At the mere thought, Jim felt his mouth go dry.

-

_You have stolen my heart_

-

It wasn't fair that Uhura got to experience the love and devotion aspect. Sure, he could tell she loved Spock dearly; you'd have to be blind not to. And yes, Spock obviously cared for her, if he allowed her to make such affections toward him publicly. But it didn't change the facts; it wasn't _fair._

He'd seen them first hand; the memories. Strong, heart-tugging memories that had left him breathless and desperate for more, no matter how they would later haunt his dreams with _what ifs, _and _what could have beens. _

He'd been to the new Vulcan colony on orders from Starfleet, and had been to see Spock the Elder. He'd noticed the look in Spock Elder's eyes, and had demanded to know. That was, surprisingly, all it took.

And then his mind had been filled with memories of a different him, a different Spock. So much love between them. So much friendship, trust. He had nearly been driven to tears when the memories faded into nothingness, after drawing away from the meld.

He had been kneeled over on Spock the Elder's room floor, tears building in his eyes, anguish squeezing his heart, the memories dancing in his mind. And through it all, a faint word flittered through his mind, little more than a faint whisper.

_T'hy'la. _

Jim blinked rapidly when he felt the moisture starting to build up in his eyes. He cleared his throat, and continued to stare out at the ocean, his white button down shirt fluttering wildly.

A soft sigh escaped him, and he felt the tight bands constricting his chest slightly unwind.

-

_And from the ballroom floor we are in celebration  
One good stretch before our hibernation  
Our dreams assured and we all, will sleep well_

-

He didn't have to have heightened senses to know that he wasn't alone any longer. He continued to stare straight ahead of him, as Spock calmly stepped up next to him.

All was silent for awhile, and Jim felt the constricting bands tightening around him again. He was finding it hard to breathe normally. His eyes watered as he forced them straight ahead, not allowing them to turn and look at his First Officer, as he wanted them to do so badly.

So close. Damn, he was _so close. _

And yet Jim knew he was impossibly far; no matter what he did, know matter what he _knew,_ Spock would never be within his reach.

He'd never be his.

Because life wasn't fair, and that was really all it was about, wasn't it?

It didn't matter that in another life, they'd been _t'hy'la, _that they'd fought for one another, risked their lives for one another.

All of that was irrevocably broken with the time change. What had once been his no longer was.

He'd have to settle for what he did have, even if it wasn't much.

-

_I watch you spin around in your highest heels  
You are the best one, of the best ones  
We all look like we feel_

-

Finally, _finally, _Jim could not stand it any longer, and turned to face Spock. Only to find him looking at him. Deeply. So deep, it hurt.

Jim's throat ached as he swallowed hard, rooted to the spot. Nothing could escape that look; Jim felt as if he was being stripped bare before the Vulcan, leaving him open, and vulnerable. No defenses, no pretenses.

God, he was in far too deep.

Those amber eyes, which conveyed so much from a man who spoke so little.

He'd been able to read him, once. In another life.

He didn't know what to say, both of them standing there, staring. Say something, anything.

"Walk with me?" Jim blurted out, before his mind could catch up to the words. He flinched, and turned to look out at the ocean again, his cheeks flushing. The ocean was the only safe place to rest his eyes, without giving too much away.

"Of course," Spock replied evenly, and without anymore words between the two, they set off along the coastline, their bodies mere inches apart.

Jim knew they were supposed to be; him and Spock. Always. But that was another life, and life wasn't fair.

Other people jogged or played past them, absorbed in their own lives.

He continued to walk, Spock next to him, a constant reminder of what he could never have.

And though it pained him to realize his lost opportunities, he was still grateful that he had Spock at all.

-

_You have stolen my heart_

-

It was true. Spock had stolen his heart, and he doubted he would ever get it back. But that was okay; because that was the stark reality of life, was it not?

And if there was one thing Jim knew, it was that life was hardly ever fair.

* * *

A/N: Told you it would be angsty. I wrote this one-shot while listening to "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessional. For all of those who expected a happy ending…sorry.

NOTE: This was just a piece, my way of telling everyone that Hollywood should keep the relationship between Spock and Kirk as Roddenberry had it; to keep that underlying romance between them. We shouldn't let them take that away and rob either Spock's or Kirk's characters of the love that TOS had built between them.

If anyone has read Lanaea's wonderful "Home", or visited her profile, you can find a link to SEE, a project of fans who are trying to keep Spock/Kirk true in the nuTrek films. I am trying to do what I can, and that was why this story was written.


	2. Chapter 2

**Stolen**

**Written by: TrekkieGirl12**

* * *

Summary: [Story Change: Now Multi-Chaptered!] Jim has contemplated how Spock has stolen his heart, and has vowed not to show how Spock is constantly affecting him. But as time progresses, their relationships begins to evolve into something much more, and no matter how hard Jim tries to fight it, fate certainly wants them to be together. Eventual K/S; slow-building. :Slight AU:

A/N: Okay...*sigh* Yes; I am a big sap. I have went against my previous idea of just leaving this story as a angsty one-shot. But I have found that over the course of the week following posting this story, it would not leave me alone. Don't you fellow writers hate when that happens; when the story keeps bugging you to finish it? Well, more ideas and plot-lines kept blossoming in my mind, and before I knew it, this one-shot was turning into more. I hope you like it!

NOTE: Yes; so I changed the category from Angst/Romance to General/Romance, but there still will be some angsty moments. Hopefully, though, this story WILL have a happy ending. I think...

**Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me; if it did, Spock and Kirk would've been married by now.**

**[Pairings: Established Spock/Uhura, but will eventually become Kirk/Spock]**

**NOTE2: **Without a doubt, I absolutely ADORE Spock. He's awesome to the tenth degree. But I find that I am enthralled by Jim Kirk's new character attributes; yes he's mouthy and cocky in the movie, but in my mind, I'd like to think that some of that's a front; that he has another side to him, a side that's removed, cool, and calulating in some ways. What if he only acted like an ass, but was really a complex individual, with endless compassion and other positive qualities that he merely downplayed to fit his "bad guy" persona? I will try to keep him as nuTrek!Kirk as possible outwardly, but you can consider this story as slightly AU, because this Jim Kirk is going to be a lot more...politer (internally) than we're used to. ^_^

* * *

**Chapter One**

Jim had faced a lot of terrifying things in his life, though he'd like to think he handled them to the best of his ability. Among some of the most challenging (and traumatizing,) he'd insist it was the Nero ordeal. Not a lot of things affected Jim too deeply (and if they did, he damned sure didn't let anyone else know something was affecting him), but the whole Nero charade had torn into him something fierce. All those lives, lost…

With a shudder, Jim pulled his thoughts from the shadows of the recent past and with a considerable amount of effort, planted them firmly into the present. To the here and now.

To the "who" walking along side him. Spock.

Jim had faced a lot of terrifying things in his life, though he'd like to think he handled them to the best of his ability. And yet, for all the experience he'd gained, it only proved to show him one thing; he still had a _lot _more to learn. Like effective communication between him and other people, and the communication preferably _didn't _involve violent tendencies.

He and Spock had been walking for a good three or four minutes now, simply following along some unspoken path, trailing smoothly across the soft sand. Their footprints stamped into the miniscule sediments, the only evidence leaving behind a trail showing where their little trek had originally begun.

Jim had yet to say a word to Spock, content with letting the silence hang between them. This was an instance in where his ineptitude at fruitful communication was painfully apparent, though it was luckily enough that Spock seemed to not mind the absence of noise in the least. He seemed quite content, actually, his arms held behind his back, his shoulders lax, and his gait easy and light. This was the closest to relaxed and untroubled as Jim had ever seen the usually prompt and stiff half-Vulcan.

It was refreshing to Jim to see Spock so at ease. He didn't know why, it just…was.

_Usually I feel the need to fill the silence with noise around people…_Jim mused, as he turned to look out at the ocean waves, which were still reflecting the golden light from the sun's warm rays. _But I feel completely at ease. So relaxed; it's almost like the ocean waves have some Zen-like qualities. Maybe Spock would find it perfect to do his meditation rituals listening to this._

At the thought, Jim chuckled to himself. If anyone knew that he secretly had an affinity toward Zen-music-(a mental picture of Bones' incredulous face popped into his mind)-they'd probably laugh all of his remaining dignity into the ground. He shuddered.

"May I inquire as to what you find so amusing, Captain?" came Spock's mellow voice; a strange, but not altogether unpleasant, song all its own. Jim decided to look straight ahead of them, figuring it would be easier to concentrate on his words that way.

"Jim, Spock. Call me Jim, when we're not on duty, okay?" he said automatically. It seemed that Spock was almost incapable of taking out the formalities between them, even when they were involved in informal affairs.

From a quick sideways glance, Jim saw Spock incline his head down in a nod ever so slightly.

"May I inquire as to what you find so amusing…Jim?" Spock asked the question again, looking at Jim.

Well, he was _almost _incapable of informalities.

Hearing his name spoken made Jim smile, and he felt like he was finally shortening that distance between him and Spock; whatever "distance" there was between them. He honestly couldn't put a title to it, but he knew it was there; invisible but there nonetheless.

The dark ambers of Spock's eyes were bottomless, and as he looked at him, Jim found himself slightly leaning in his direction, almost as if hypnotized. The corners around Spock's eyes tightened microscopically as the distance between him and Jim waned, and had he not been so focused on the face before him, he would not have caught the slight shifts in his First Officer's face. But he did, in any case.

Hastily catching himself, Jim brought up his arms and wrapped them about him, as if he was suddenly chilled, and lightly stepped away from Spock, putting that distance between them again.

Damn, he'd let his guard down only for a second, simply by staring into his Officer's eyes like some love sick teenager. He'd have to be careful from now on, because he couldn't risk what little he had with Spock, simply because he couldn't get his inappropriate affections under control.

Jim let out a light laugh, trying to play off his lapse in control. Better to have Spock think he'd meant to get that close momentarily, than to know the truth.

"I was just thinking about the ocean," Jim said, grinning at Spock. One of the things Jim had learned early over the years was to hide what he was really feeling; whereas Vulcans just suppressed all emotion, he covered up the unpleasant ones with false postive emotions to compensate. He had to learn how to, in order to survive. His own grim childhood was proof of that…

Jim's thoughts were interrupted by Spock raising an eyebrow.

"And what, specifically, about the ocean made you succumb to amusement? If I may be so bold as to ask, of course." Spock said, ever the diplomat. Hell, the Vulcan could hate your guts, and you'd never catch on to it. Unless you pushed him over the edge, and found yourself getting the stuffing knocked out of you. By now, he and Spock had come to a halt in their walk, quite a ways away from the rest of the crew, though they were still in sight.

Failing miserably to catch himself, Jim's cheeks turned crimson. How in the world could he tell Spock, of all people besides Bones, that the ocean reminded him of music? He was James Kirk; "Golden Boy" extraordinaire, youngest Captain in Starfleet history, a love 'em and leave 'em type of guy. He was not supposed to like cheesy music, as it didn't fit into his persona.

Which was kind of ironic, because the persona the public displayed him as was so far from the truth, that if anyone really knew who he was, they wouldn't know what to believe. Besides; Jim found it easier to act like the badass jerk everyone took him for granted as. So much easier with that façade as his barrier; keeping everyone out, but still close. Touching, but not really.

Jim shrugged slightly, hoping to get off the topic before he revealed too much about his embarrassing affinities.

"Nothing interesting, promise. If I told you, you'd be bored to tears!" Jim teased, and the image of Spock crying was so hard to process, he burst out laughing. Spock's face remained neutral but the light in his eyes brightened just a notch, and Jim didn't know _how_ he knew, but he could sense that Spock found his statement unfounded but amusing nonetheless.

"Vulcans do not cry," Spock needlessly reminded Jim, who rolled his eyes. He briefly wondered if Spock was retorting just get him to tease back, but quickly squashed the thought, because why would Spock ever try to promote a reaction out of him without a "prefectly logical" reason?

With a shrug, Jim decided to roll with the punches, and retort back regardless of if that had been Spock's intentions or not.

"Of course, Spock. I would have never have guessed. You are usually so emotional, I don't know _what _to expect." He said sarcastically, with another eye roll and grin for good measure. Then Jim chuckled to himself, finally uncrossing his arms. But he didn't want his arms to dangle down by his sides uselessly, so he stuffed his hands into his knee-length jeans cutoffs. He looked over at Spock again, as his eyes were drawn to him, and saw that Spock was watching him, expectantly.

Another bout of self-consciousness washed over Jim, and he fought the urge to duck his head. He was supposed to be a brash man, not afraid of anything, and _most definitely_ not shy. Sometimes he needed to mentally remind himself of that, lest he started behaving like he usually did when he was around people who didn't know who he was supposed to be.

"What? Something on my face?" Jim joked, hoping to distract Spock in any way he could. If only he could get him to stop looking at him like that…it wasn't good for Jim's control, damn it.

"There is nothing on your face, Jim. I am merely waiting for you to answer my question, as I have just assured you I will not cry should you decide to give me the answer." Spock answered him coolly, and Jim narrowed his eyes.

Damn Vulcan memory and one-tracked minds. He sighed. Might as well get it over with.

"…the sounds from the ocean waves are therapeutic, and they reminded me of Zen-music. I laughed because I was considering getting you the music, so you could meditate, is all." He said, trying for the entire world to look nonchalant and play it cool.

People offered Vulcans meditation music all the time, right?

Even Jim had to internally wince at the stupidity he'd just proposed to his Vulcan Officer. He just hoped he didn't lose any ounce of respect from Spock because of it.

Both Spock's eyebrow rose up, in a brief display of surprise, before they lowered and he hastily made his face neutral again.

He seemed to hesitate, before his eyes turned thoughtful. He seemed to be thinking of a response, and Jim waited patiently, though not sure if he wanted to know whatever it was Spock was trying to get across.

"While Vulcans meditate alone and in the accompanying of silence, I must confess to the fact that I do find the ocean waves…conducive to a rather peaceful enviornment. I do not require this "Zen music" you offer for meditation, however…"

Jim tried to keep the open curiosity out of his face as he waited for Spock to continue.

"…I would not be opposed to having it simply to listen to for recreational purposes." He concluded. He calmly looked back at Jim, seemingly awaiting his response.

Jim blinked. And then he smiled. Spock didn't think he was weird! Well, if he did, he certainly didn't mention it, so that was a plus.

"Sure," Jim chirped happily, feeling great all of a sudden. "Maybe tomorrow or sometime before we're due back to Starfleet, we can go and look for some music you might like?"

He looked up at Spock's face hopefully, not bothering to suppress his grin. It was most likely a product of his imagination, but he could have sworn that Spock's lip faintly twitched at the corner.

"Have you forgotten tomorrow is when our official leave begins?" Spock inquired. "Surely you would find your time well spent in the company of your family, instead of in my presence looking for music?"

Without thinking, Jim let out a loud laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I'd prefer you over my family any day!" he said. It took the awkward silence and the subtle curious look in Spock's dark eyes for Jim to realize what he'd just said. Oh, crap.

"I-I mean, I could visit my family and stuff," Jim floundered for an excuse, conscious of how Spock was watching in rather intensly. "But we don't usually do much of anything..."

Just the thought of being stuck with his mom for any amount of time-alone-made him sick to his stomach. She would be better behaved if he had company, however. Then an idea popped into his head seemingly out of nowhere from that random train of thought. He looked at Spock judgingly, trying to sum up the courage to propose his next question.

_Just get it out already, _he chastised himself mentally.

"How about you come with me to meet my mom? Then we can still go look for the music in town or something and just hang out?" he asked, holding his breath for the answer. Spock looked back to the way they'd come, and Jim, after a beat, turned to look in the same direction. His eyes found what he instinctively knew Spock was looking at.

Coming out of the watery depth, with her skin glistening from the water was Uhura, and with a sickening feeling, Jim remembered dejectedly that if there was anyone whose family Spock wanted to visit, it sure as hell wasn't his. Before the dreadful feelings could get any more oppressive, Jim pushed them away with practiced ease, and his face twisted into a light grin. Any traces of rejection or his being upset were nonexistent in his eyes.

He took his hand out of his pocket and clapped Spock on the shoulder good-naturedly. Spock turned back to look at him, as if suddenly remembering he was there. Jim pretended that the shock of pain through his chest didn't happen.

"Nah; forget it. I bet you have loads of things to do with your girlfriend's family, anyway. I'll just look for the music on my own and bring it to you later, how about that?" Jim proposed, putting his hand back into his pocket. Spock's eyes flickered briefly as he peered into Jim's face as if he were looking for something.

"I am to meet Lt. Uhura's family three days from today; I am sure I will be able to accompany you and meet your family, before leaving to meet hers. That is, if you are sure I will not be intruding on your reunion, and provided the invitation is still open." He told Jim, and Jim couldn't keep the bright heartfelt grin from forming on his face to save his life. Then it faltered.

"It'd be great for you to come, but you don't have to on my account." He assured Spock, not wanting Spock to feel obligated. Spock inclined his head slightly.

"I am aware, Jim. I would find it perfectly amiable to meet your family members; no obligation is persuading me." He informed the young Captain.

Jim nodded, satisfied.

"It's just my mom, but hey. We'll leave to visit her tomorrow, because she already sent me a message saying she'll be home for the week, before she has to leave for another mission."

Jim didn't let on the fact that he was wary; why in the world had his mother bothered to contact him? As far as he was concerned, he knew she wouldn't bat an eyelash if she got a message saying he'd suffered some unfortunate fatal accident...

Quickly taking his mind off such depressing matters, Jim forced a grin onto his face again for Spock's benefit. He didn't notice that Spock's eyes had narrowed slightly at the abrupt change in his facial features. Again.

"Does that sound good to you?" Jim asked, as they turned, and they quietly began to walk again neither having made the decision aloud. It was Spock's turn to look straight ahead as he answered.

"Indeed, Jim. Indeed."

* * *

A/N: Phew! So? Whaddya think? I warned you that Jim isn't the cocky guy internally as we all thought him out to be. I think it will make Spock getting past his barriers all the sweeter, don't you agree? Oh, and I love Jim to death, but he's in for some major future angst and whumping. Just thought you guys would like to know before hand! Feel free to review; they are what inspire me and feed my muse! XD

-_TrekkieGirl12_


	3. Chapter 3

**Stolen**

**Written by: TrekkieGirl12**

* * *

Summary: [Story Change: Now Multi-Chaptered!] Jim has contemplated how Spock has stolen his heart, and has vowed not to show how Spock is constantly affecting him. But as time progresses, their relationships begins to evolve into something much more, and no matter how hard Jim tries to fight it, fate certainly wants them to be together. Eventual K/S; slow-building. :Slight AU:

A/N: Okay, here you go with another chapter. You guys are really wonderful, you know that? I was floored when I looked and saw the reviews. I am so happy you guys like it, and I find that more and more ideas are coming to me when I see some of your awesome suggestions! Honestly though, thank you for taking the time to review. For us inspiring writers, reviews are our fuel! XD Enough rambling, let the story continue...

NOTE: Yes; so I changed the category from Angst/Romance to General/Romance, but there still will be some angsty moments. Hopefully, though, this story WILL have a happy ending. I think...

**Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me; if it did, Spock and Kirk would already be T'hy'la.**

**[Pairings: Established Spock/Uhura, but will eventually become Kirk/Spock]**

**NOTE2: **I have mixed feelings about this chapter. I wanted to have some lightheartedness to be apparent between Jim and the crew, but to still have that underlying angst within Jim. Nothing too major happens in this chapter; I'm saving it for the next! ;)

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Loud, boisterous laughter filled the air, accompanied by the sounds of clattering dishes, and waiters calling out order numbers. As one last treat for the group before they were all to separate the next day to go their own ways, Jim had offered to treat them to dinner. He had to admit, he could understand why they had just given him incredulous looks when he told them he had planned on taking them to eat after leaving the beach.

"Well, I'm a Captain, and you guys are my crew; it can't be _that _unbelievable that I'd take you guys out." He told them in his defense. And then he'd laid down his "charm" grin, and he knew he had them.

The only downside to his plan was that many of the restaurants close to the beach didn't really have any vegan options, so he chose some place that had apparently once been owned by Mexicans further in town. Surely they had more non-meat options for Spock than the other places?

Taking a table at the far back of the restaurant, which also had a bar and pool table section, Jim took a quick look around the large table. He was content at what he saw; Sulu was scanning the menu with a half-hearted attempt, Chekov was wistfully looking at the alcohol beverages, Chapel and Uhura were both leaning towards each other, giggling and communicating in their secret language known as Female.

Sitting next to Jim on his right (he was on a corner end of the rectangular table) was Bones. Directly across from him was Spock, who was sitting on Uhura's left, making her slightly diagonal to him. The waiter who was to serve them, a "Debra" her nametag donned her as, gave them all water and utensils, (after giving Jim a significant leering grin, to which he feigned ignorance by keeping his eyes focused solely on his menu) and left them to think up what they wanted to eat.

"Oh man, what wouldn't I do for some meat and potatoes!" Bones said as Debra sauntered away, sitting back in his chair leisurely and giving his menu a disdained glance. Jim snorted.

"You truly are southern, aren't you?" he mused, propping both his elbows up onto the table and leaning forward a bit, balancing his weight on the edge of his chair.

Bones shrugged.

"You can take a man out of the south, but you can't take the south out of a man," he drawled, exaggerating his southern accent to accentuate the point. Jim gave a soft laugh, before taking a sip of his water, and then he looked around at everyone again. He was frankly, quite ravenous, and couldn't make up his mind about what to eat. Maybe some inspiration was in order.

"So what is everyone having?" he asked. One by one, everyone piped up their answers.

"Enchiladas!" Chekov said, looking positively delighted, his still slightly boyishly face turned into an infectious smile. Jim couldn't help smiling back at him briefly; he seriously felt like Chekov was a little brother he never had. Jim nodded at him, and then looked at Sulu next.

"Um…I'll try these chicken quesadillas; they look pretty good." He said, and then Chekov leaned over to look at the picture, giving Sulu thumbs up at his choice. Uhura snorted at them, and then looked at Jim.

"Chicken sounds good to me." She said. "You?"

Jim bit his lower lip, and drummed his fingers lightly on the table absent-mindedly. He was still undecided.

"Pass," he said, and stuck out his tongue at Uhura for good measure when she rolled her eyes at him. He didn't have to look at Bones to know that the doctor had done the exact same thing as Uhura.

"I'll have a salad; no need to get greedy now," Chapel said, wrinkling her dainty nose. Jim would never understand why some girls insisted on eating just rabbit food, and then only to complain they were eating too much. Hell, what was wrong with eating a greasy cheeseburger once in a while, and enjoying it _without_ going all paranoid? Jim was very grateful he was born with testicles.

"And what about you, Bones?" Jim quipped, looking at his friend.

"Steak," Bones said. Jim's eyes widened, and he hastily grabbed his menu and starting perusing it again feverishly, almost knocking over his glass of water in the process.

"They have steak here? Where; how did I miss it?" Jim said, eyebrows furrowed. It took a moment for the snickering around him to reach his ears, and when it did, he still was confused. He looked up to see pretty much everyone, save Spock, chuckling or grinning like maniacs at him.

Jim blinked. Had he missed something?

"What?" he asked defensively, starting to frown.

"Of course there's no steak here; I was being sarcastic, you nimrod." Bones said with a playful scowl on his face. Even though they were laughing at his slipup, Jim just rolled his eyes and plopped his menu back on the table.

"You guys are pure dang nasty evil, you know that?" Jim pointed out with mock seriousness, giving all of them the evil eye, except Spock. "Spock here is the only one with common decency not to laugh at me!" Jim said. He looked over at Spock, and tried to keep his heart rate under control after seeing those liquid amber eyes gazing into his.

For a second, Jim's mind drew a blank as he looked at the Vulcan. What had he been talking about? Hot damn he had it bad for Spock; it was bordering on down right _embarrassing_.

"I do not laugh," Spock said. Then the corner of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly. "However, if I did, I assure you Jim, I would be joining everyone else,"

Jim just stared at him, flabbergasted, as everyone broke out into more laughter at Spock's words. This time, Jim blushed slightly.

"Damn, even Spock thought it was funny!" Bones chuckled, and Jim just sat back in his chair with a pout.

"Shut up," he said with no real bite, and then turned to Spock.

"What are you eating?" he asked, glad to be turning the conversation away. He still couldn't figure out what to eat, and Debra was now walking back to their table for their orders.

Spock looked down at his menu and read it off.

"I will order the bean burritos. They look most appetizing."

"Bean burritos? Hmm…" Jim scoured the menu for the bean burritos, and then read what came with them. His stomach growled, and he took that for what it was.

"Cool," he said with aplomb, plopping his menu down onto the table once more. "Looks like I'm having bean burritos!" he said happily.

At the uplifting of Spock's brow, Jim just beamed a grin at him, and gave a thumbs up.

"You have good tastes, Mr. Spock." He bantered, just as Debra made it to their table and pulled out a notepad to take their orders.

Once their orders had been placed, and the food had been brought to them, conversation turned to something Jim could have lived without. Family.

"You should have seen my dad when he found out I was flying the _Enterprise_!" Sulu said, after wiping at his mouth with a napkin. "He was all, 'I knew you could do it, son!'. My mom pretty much just cried 'cuz she was happy I got home safe."

Chekov told of how his entire family threw a party for him, and that he had got to drink Russian vodka. Jim couldn't keep the laughter at bay when Chekov's chest swelled with pride as he retold the story.

"My mother wasn't too surprised," Uhura told them with an indifferent shrug. "She, herself, was a xenolinguist, and taught me partially everything I know. To her, it was obvious I would succeed."

Jim repressed a sigh. He knew Uhura was simply telling what she thought her mom expected, but he couldn't help feeling like she was purposely rubbing it in his face. Though she couldn't have really intentioned that, because how was she to know that Jim was a big disappointment to his mom?

He shifted uneasily in his chair, and let his burrito fall back onto his plate. He'd suddenly lost his appetite, though he hadn't eaten much of anything.

"Yeah, well, nothing to report here; my ex-wife's still a bitch." Bones said, and everyone seemed to nod with synchronized sympathy.

Chapel mentioned her brother calling her to congratulate her, and her parents had come to see her during her return to the academy after the Nero event.

Almost as a silent agreement, no one expected Spock to speak up, because they'd seen his father, and his mother had passed away.

To their credit, Spock seemed to pick up on it and inclined his head at them, like a silent "thank you".

"What about you, Kirk?" Sulu questioned, and all eyes focused in him. Jim tried desperately not to squirm under their stares. He shrugged.

"Quoting after the eloquent Bones here; "nothing to report"." He said. When they all realized he wasn't going to elaborate, they looked at one another, before looking back at him. The silence was very awkward. And Jim would have been fine with letting it continue, but Uhura just _had _to open her big mouth.

"Aw, come on. Surely your mom must have been happy that you made Captain?" she insisted.

Jim didn't try to keep in his snort. As if.

"Sure, let's go with that," he said, not fully able to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He took a deep breath, and then looked up at them, forcibly reminding himself not to get angry.

"She talked to me after the ceremony," he said, and left it at that. The firmness in his voice cued everyone that he was done talking, and they wisely turned to other less personal topics.

Jim glanced at Spock, only to see his eyebrows furrowed. Crap. Jim knew that look; it was a look Spock got whenever he came across something mysterious that he couldn't understand, and wanted to study in depth.

And knowing Spock, he'd keep studying until he came up with an answer. Feeling sick to his stomach, Jim looked away.

* * *

After they were finished eating, they trekked back to the Fleet Academy quarters, where they were staying temporarily. After they all said their goodbyes to one another, they separated to their own rooms, and Jim entered his room with a relieved sigh.

Luckily, he had a single room, so no one else was there. The lights flooded on automatically as he walked from the foyer into the bedroom. Might as well get a head start and pack up his stuff for the trip home tomorrow.

Tomorrow…was it really so soon? Feeling as if a great disaster was just looming over him, waiting down to crash around him at any moment…Jim took a deep breath. He got out his large duffel, pulled out his clothes, and began packing them away with no particular order.

As his hands completed the automatic tasks of grabbing the clothing items and stuffing them into his duffel, his mind was completely far away. Remembering.

He had not been entirely dishonest with Uhura earlier when he told her his mom had spoken to him. But he hadn't been entirely _honest _with her either.

She'd spoken to him in a telecommunicated recorded message. And it hadn't been to tell him she was worried about him and was glad he'd returned home safely. When was the last time he'd spoken to her face to face (or at least face to face through a telecommunications screen?).

Flipping through his memories, he wasn't surprised to remember it had been a few days after the Nero catastrophe months ago, when they'd been grounded. While everyone else's families had come to see their loved ones, relieved (or in grief) for them after their safe return to earth, Jim had received the message from his mom.

She had wanted to tell him that he had disgraced her by cheating on the Maru test, and then to steal away on the Enterprise. Never mind he'd helped save all of their lives, including hers. According to her, he may have _looked _like his long-dead father, but he had none of his honor.

That night had ended with everyone else spending time with their relatives, while Jim had found consolation at the nearest bar. He didn't bother to be upset when his mother neglected to come to the ceremony in which he'd been promoted to Captain. Knowing how she felt on the subject, he surmised she didn't believe he deserved it. Not that Jim didn't fully disagree with her…

Shaking his head to clear it, Jim found that while he had been in his daze, he'd finished packing all of his tow-a-way possessions. Glancing over at the clock on the bedside table, he saw it was nearly one in the morning.

He had to get to sleep soon so he could be well rested the next day. Couldn't be a walking zombie since he'd be going home with his First Officer.

Jim felt mixed emotions about the trek he had to take with the Vulcan. How would his mom react? Would she be nice to him since he had company?

Jim finally pushed the thoughts away and went to take a shower. Thinking about it wouldn't change what was. Whatever was going to happen would happen; he'd just have to adjust to them, as he'd always had since a child.

Once he's finished his shower, he lied down in his bed and curled up in the oppressive darkness of the room. While he would never admit it out loud, in the privacy in his mind, he acknowledge the truth.

He was scared.

Yes, James Tiberius Kirk was absolutely terrified.

Tomorrow would come, and he didn't know what to expect. But seeing that his mom was going to be involved, he could only conclude it wouldn't be good.

After a few minutes, Jim's eyelids fluttered shut, and he succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

A/N: Poor Jimmy. His mom must be really heartless for Jim to be scared of her. :( Well, at least he won't be alone. Our favorite half-Vulcan will be with him! Yay!!!! :D

BTW; sorry this chapter's shorter than the last. But I think I may just be able to make up for it in the next one, so...

_Happy Reading, ya'll._

_-TrekkieGirl12_


	4. Chapter 4

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Stolen

Written by: TrekkieGirl12

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This chapter is dedicated to the one and only **Twilight Zephyr**, who writes AMAZING Twilight Jaspard stories! (Jaspard; Jasper/Edward.) You should go check out T.Z's work, especially "Poison" and the Sequel to Poison; "Ghost Love Score". Trust me; you'll love it! I know I sure do. Hope you enjoy this, T.Z. I made it slightly sappy, but don't worry; the angst will be back next chapter! ;)

A/N: Well, Kirk's mom does make an entrance this chapter...but the confrontation between son and mom (and Vulcan on the side) won't take place til next chapter. Sorry! But to make up for it, all next chapter will pretty much be between the three. Won't that be exciting?!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor any of its characters. If I did, I would use them all for pure smut!! O.o**

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**Chapter Three**

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The shrill alarm that made it known dawn had arrived came far too soon for Jim's taste. With a dull, exhausted-laden sigh, he lazily reached his arm out and hit the button that turned that alarm off. Done with that, he turned over onto his back, and sleepily gazed up at the room's ceiling, in an effort to gather his hazy thoughts.

What was he doing again for today? Playing on the edge of his memory was a slight feeling of foreboding. And then it came to him, and his breath hitched in his throat.

He was going home today.

All traces of sleep evaded him in a rush, and he sat up in his bed, swinging around so that he could settle his feet on the cold floor. Elbows placed on his knees, he placed his face into his hands and took slow, deep breaths. Feelings best left unsaid swept over him, warring for dominance.

_You're a big boy now, _Jim thought. _Start acting like it! _

Pushing the feelings away, turning his thoughts to something else, Jim bounded to his feet and went to take a shower.

Done with that and donning on a red tee-shirt and lanky black jeans, he gathered up his duffel and placed it on his now made up bed. He took a minute to gather his senses about him, and just when he was starting to feel calm, the alarm at his door alerted him to someone wanting to come in. Feeling jittery, Jim took in a shaky breath, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then went to the door.

There was no surprise when the tall, dark and handsome visage of Spock appeared in the threshold of the doorway, his slightly smaller bundle of belongings hanging from a strap in his pale grip. Jim's heart skipped beat at the sight of his First Officer, before it picked up in a wild staccato, sending heat flooding throughout his system. He had to remind himself to appear calm, and to let nothing of his infatuations show. This was easier said than done, of course.

He gave Spock a lazy smile.

"You _would _be on time," he teased good-naturedly, stepping back into the room to allow space for Spock to enter. When the Vulcan stepped in, Jim turned to retrieve his items.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, making sure to not look at Spock as he went to the bed.

"I have not been afforded the opportunity to do so, as I made my way here as soon as I was prepared to leave." Spock answered, sounding as if he were giving an official report. Jim nodded, and then slipped the strap of his duffel over his shoulder, across his chest. He readied himself mentally, before turning around to take in Spock again.

"Okay, before we get to the shuttles, let's stop at a breakfast joint for a meal somewhere around here, huh? Not that I'm ashamed of my hometown or anything, but Riverside doesn't really have a lot of Vulcan friendly foods. Sound like a plan?" Jim asked.

Spock nodded, and then Jim pumped his fist up a little, as if having accomplished something. "Oh yeah."

And then his stomach rumbled awfully loudly, and Jim looked down at it almost accusingly. At the light that seemed to glitter from Spock's dark eyes as Jim looked back up at him, Jim could tell Spock was amused. His cheeks heating up, he gave a carefree shrug.

"What?" he drawled. "I'm a growing boy!"

"So I can hear," Spock said, and for a moment, Jim could have sworn he heard an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. Jim let out a surprised burst of laughter, astounded that Spock had just said something even remotely funny. And _had _there been emotion in his voice when he'd spoken?

_'Nah, must be imagining it,' _Jim reassured himself. With a goofy grin at his First Officer, Jim led the way out of the room and to the elevators that would take them to the ground floor. A few other Starfleet members passed them by on the way to the elevators, but for the most part, the corridors were vacant. Probably had to due with either people having already left to spend time with family, or the people that were still here were currently in bed. For whatever reason, Jim thanked the stars, because he was conscious of how Spock did with heavy crowds, which was to say he did not prefer them at all.

Once they made it outside, with a swiftness that came with practice, Jim slipped on a pair of shades, and the two continued on their way, silently agreeing to walk until they were to make it to the shuttles later on. It was such a nice day; why ruin it by being cooped up in a small hovercar, when they could walk and enjoy outside for awhile?

The two companions trudged down the sidewalks, taking their time to look at different restaurants and buildings. As they trekked, Jim pleasantly struck up conversation about the few places he knew from earlier memories of when he'd been just a cadet, with Spock politely contributing questions and comments throughout. Before he knew it, Jim found that he really was enjoying the start of the trip so far, and pushed thoughts of what was to come later on off into the dark recesses of his mind. He focused only on the present, on Spock who was walking with him.

"…yeah, there was even a barmaid who as giving me The Eye all night! I could barely resist myself!" Jim recalled with particular fondness, his face washed with a dopey-look. Spock's eyes widened microscopically, and he regarded Jim with an unconcealed look of surprise.

"Resist?" He asked, and Jim was definitely sure that there was a leveled tone of disbelief intertwined in his voice. "You did not endeavor to start a physical relationship with her?"

Jim didn't feel too bad that his First Officer found that hard to believe; after all, it _was _his persona to be a man whore, wasn't it? Jim nodded, and gave Spock a little wink.

"Hey, I _do _have some standards!" he said indignantly, feigning insult at Spock's disbelief. Spock pursed his lips.

"I must admit to finding this new to me," he said after a moment. Jim shrugged again, not really knowing how to respond. Luckily, they just happened to pass by a small breakfast diner, and Jim unthinkingly reached out and gripped Spock's arm to get his attention. The inhuman warmth emanating through the fabric of Spock's sleeve raced through Jim's hand and up his arm instantly, almost as if singed, leaving a pleasant tingling feeling in its wake. But the tensing of Spock's body brought Jim back to reality, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

"Sorry 'bout that; I forget sometimes." Jim said. Spock didn't say anything, so he took that to mean he wasn't too mad. At least, that's what Jim _hoped _it meant. As he headed into the diner, he glanced back at Spock briefly, to see the half-Vulcan looking at his arm where Jim had touched him, his face slightly scrunched in what Jim could only assume was a confused manner. A slight wave of guilt ran through him, and he made sure to try and remember not to touch Spock unless it was absolutely necessary.

The inside of the diner was lit brightly due to the large glass windows that were devoid of curtains letting in the bright sunlight. Five old-fashioned fans swirled lazily overhead, not really giving off much cool air, so it was slightly warm. The tables near the front were all occupied, but a few in the back remained empty. A large bar area ran the entire length of the diner on the far opposite wall, across from the tables, and Jim could hear pots and pans moving and a few voices calling out orders. He glanced over at Spock as the Vulcan moved to stand next to him. In all of a split second, out of nowhere, Jim was suddenly hit with a realization.

Spock was taller than him.

_'Well I'll be damned, he _is _taller than me!' _Jim thought, having just come to that realization when he had to tilt his head up slightly to meet Spock's eyes. At the moment, Spock was observing the diner with that deep focus he usually applied to just about everything else. _'What else would I ever expect from my Vulcan?' _Jim thought fondly. His attention was abruptly diverted when a tall, dark haired waitress slipped from behind the bar counter and sauntered over to them with an exaggerated swish to her gait. Jim wasn't oblivious to the fact that her eyes were zeroed in on him, not even sparing Spock a glance.

Jim couldn't help but shift his weight, trying to ignore the feelings of paranoia. Surely he only imagined the leer in her eyes, making him feel like he was a lamb caught in a lion's sight?

_'Stop being so dramatic,' _Jim told himself, and chuckled with a shake of his head. The waitress came to stop in front of Jim, giving him a wide smile showing off even, white teeth.

"Don't we feel so special having a Captain in here?" she said, obviously trying to sound humorous. Her voice was a bit nasal, and grated on Jim's nerves instantly. Trying to play off the twitch he had as soon as she'd spoken, he gave her a lazy smile as he slid off his sunglasses and slipped them into his jeans' pocket.

"Oh, uh, thanks ma'am." He said, and made the conscious effort to appear really polite, that way he could look innocent should he have to shove off her advances. (If had been someone even remotely attractive, he would act accordingly, but it wasn't so…) The woman, her name "Sharelle" on the tag, waved his comment off.

"Don't be so modest! Surely as the youngest Captain, you have a lot of things going for you! And it doesn't hurt you're really hot, too." She quipped with a wink at him.

Oh, goodness gracious. Was she _really _trying to flirt with him, in broad daylight, this early in the morning, and while _at work? _Sure, Jim was known to come on to people at various places, but he never mixed pleasure with business. As he'd told Spock; he had standards. Apparently, this "Sharelle" did not. Or rather she did; but those standards apparently applied only to young, successful Captains.

With a sinking feeling, Jim wondered if this as how it was going to be from now on; would people now only see him as the "Golden Boy"? Sure, it was better than the wild delinquent he'd been as a child, but was being sought after simply for his position any better? As Jim glanced around the diner and saw that Sharelle's voice had caught the attention of some of the patrons and they were now gawking openly at him, he decided that it _was _better, but not by much.

"Actually," Spock suddenly spoke up, and both Jim and Sharelle turned to look at him. "Jim is not 'hot' as you put it. His temperature is a steady 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, which is normal for humans. To suggest otherwise is to suggest he is ill, and that would be most unfortunate."

For a second, Jim was completely stumped about why Spock would say such a thing; surely he knew that she had been saying he was attractive? At his questioning look, Spock turned to him. His eyes shouted 'I know what she meant; I was merely trying to help divert her attention'. Sharelle blinked stupidly, seeming to finally realize that Jim had company, albeit seemingly unfriendly company and she instantly turned businesslike.

"Right this way," she mumbled, shooting Jim another speculative glance before turning to lead them to their table. As they walked behind her, Jim shot Spock a grateful look and mouthed 'thank you', to which Spock-literally-gave a slight shrug of one of his shoulders. It was almost as if he was trying to say, 'of course; what are friends for?'

But Jim knew better than to think that. Either way, he was content.

---

They ate quickly and quietly without any preamble, and within a half an hour were making their way towards the shuttles. There were quite a few people taking the shuttles, so Jim found himself acting like a moving barrier between them and Spock. He couldn't help it; part of him wasn't comfortable if Spock wasn't comfortable, so he didn't mind the weird looks he received from people as he smoothly stepped in between them and Spock if they accidentally stepped too close to the secluded Vulcan.

Jim was so busy watching those around them; he neglected to notice the intense looks Spock shot at him periodically. Even if he had seen them, he wouldn't have known what to conclude from them anyway.

The ride to Riverside was quiet between them, but Jim found he wasn't the least bit uncomfortable. He enjoyed being allowed to glance at Spock, whose attention was drawn to the window, his dark eyes taking in the passing scenery with avid interest. The constant sunlight filtering in through the windows embraced Spock in a golden aura, highlighting his dark hair, his sharp, symmetrical features, and those delicate pointed tips at his ears. Jim could scarcely catch his breath whenever his eyes happened to stray to Spock, as if being drawn by an invisible magnet. Spock was far too beautiful for his own good.

Jim shifted in his seat, and Spock turned to look at him. His eyelashes seemed to umbrella his amber orbs, which lit up like dark molten gold due to the sunlight. Jim's heart fluttered again, and this time a rich, flowing heat flooded his system, making him feel almost lightheaded. Jim frowned.

Strange. That had never happened before…

"Is something wrong?" Spock asked. Jim had to swallow twice and lick his suddenly dry lips, before he could gather enough coherency to speak.

"Nope; everything's good." He assured Spock, and turned to look out the window. Spock continued to look at him, but when it was apparent Jim wasn't going to talk anymore, he turned his eyes back to observing the scenery outside.

---

"…looks like she's not home," Jim mused, trying to downplay the strong surge of relief that overtook him. He kept his eyes fixed on the farmhouse looming before them, so he missed the speculative look Spock sent his way. After a brief moment in which Jim seemed to lose himself in a distant memory, he shook his head and hopped up the three wooden steps that led to the front porch.

"How are you certain your mother is not home?" Spock inquired, following Jim up the steps onto the porch. Strangely enough, the steps had creaked and groaned under Jim's weight, but gave no audible protests when Spock ascended them.

_'Well, he _is _Spock. Quiet is how he does things,' _Jim thought, as if that explained everything.

"All the windows are closed," he answered Spock. At the half-Vulcan's raised eyebrow, he elaborated. "Whenever she's home, she opens most of the windows, as we don't have working air conditioning. Whenever she leaves the house for anything, she shuts and locks them all. Many times I'd come home late from wherever, and I could tell right away if she was home or not."

"What an interesting system," Spock mentioned, and Jim gathered it to mean he was referring to how he used the windows to tell if his mom was home or not.

Jim laughed a laugh that was devoid of all humor.

"Yeah, you could say interesting. It sure helped save my hide a multitude of times when I was younger."

Damn. There he went again blurting stuff. Maybe he was born without that natural filter between his brain and mouth. You know, the one that made sure someone wasn't continually blurting out self-incriminating info, as Jim was constantly doing.

Jim leaned down and pulled up the front door mat, busying himself with retrieving the old silver key and unlocking the front door. Anything to keep from feeling any awkwardness in looking at Spock, should the Vulcan have that trademarked look of curiosity written over his face. Once he pushed open the front door and stood back with a sweep of his hand, indicating Spock should enter first, he shot his First Officer a quick glance.

For once, he wasn't giving Jim one of his questioning looks; his entire focus was dedicated to the foyer of the farmhouse as he stepped into the home.

Jim let himself relax slightly; if Spock had been curious about the earlier statement, he certainly wasn't letting on about it. Jim knew that even as curious Spock tended to be about…well, everything, he also knew when to leave some things alone.

Just another attribute to add to the growing list of things he loves about Spock.

_'Stop. It.' _Jim mentally reprimanded himself, replacing the key under the mat and stepping into the foyer of the house. _'You keep this up, and you'll scare him away. Control yourself, Spock will only see you as his Commanding Officer, and if you're lucky, as a friend. Take what you can get and be happy.' _

With a flourish, Jim dropped his duffel to the right side of the front door, after closing it. Spock stood stock still with his back facing Jim, and his head moving back and forth as he took everything in, from the white painted walls, to the doors leading into various rooms, to the hardwood floors in need of a mop. Jim clapped his hands once, very loudly, and Spock turned to look at him.

Grinning, the young Captain opened his arms wide. Yes, he was home and his mom would eventually return, but for now it was just him and Spock. Spock, who for reasons of his own, decided to accompany Jim when he did not need to. As of that exact moment, Jim felt as if he was floating on air.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Spock." Jim beamed. "Let me get you situated; you can use Sam's room while you stay; I'm sure mom won't mind."

Jim grabbed his bag again, and waved at Spock, indicating that he should follow him. They trudged up the stairs, and the second door on the right of the upstairs hallway, Jim opened.

"This is Sam's, my older brother, room." He told Spock, as the Vulcan entered and gingerly placed his meager bag onto the bed. The walls were a dark blue, and on the dresser across from the bed were old still-moment photos of a smiling blonde-haired, hazel eyed boy.

"He inherited my dad's eyes, I got my mom's," Jim said with a shrug. Spock just nodded, and then followed Jim out to his room, where he tossed his bag to the opposite wall, and then jumped onto his large bed. Spock looked around his room.

"I have noted that when humans usually keep a room that is designated as their very own, they acquire items that carry personal value to them and keep them in their rooms," Spock mused aloud. Jim blinked, looking up at Spock, who was standing before him, arms behind his back.

"Yeah…so?"

"You have nothing in here that would denote this room as yours. Had I not been made aware this was your room initially, I would not have gathered this room as yours."

Jim knew he had a point; there were no pictures, posters or anything about his room; just a bed, dresser, closet and computer desk. Anyone could have said this was their room, and he wouldn't have been able to prove them wrong.

Jim shrugged again, uncomfortable.

"You hungry?" he asked instead. "It's been a few hours since breakfast,"

"I am in no need of substance," Spock informed him. He hesitated, so Jim waited for him to finish. "However, I do wish to use your lavatory."

"Down the hall, the last door on the left," Jim said breezily. When Spock left, Jim got up and headed back downstairs for some food. He went into the kitchen and over to the fridge. Due to his mother's infatuation with all things 21st century, she insisted they not have food replicators, but actual fridges. The heavens above only knew where she was actually able to _find _one.

Jim had just taken out a loaf of bread and was looking for some turkey or chicken, when he heard footsteps coming into the kitchen.

"Wow, you sure use the bathroom fast," Jim joked, and finally grabbed a hold of a package of deli meat. He pulled out from the fridge and turned to look at Spock-

-only to see his mother staring back at him.

The meat fell from his suddenly limp hands.

"H-hey, mom." He said. "Long time, no see."

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A/N; See, told ya she would make an appearance. I would have kept going, but I decided to take a break here, so that the next chapter could have a start all its own, instead of breaking off in mid-conversations or something else weird like that.

To the reviewers who are concerned about Jim's relationship with his mom; I assure you, she did not physically abuse him/leave him to die or fend on his own in any extreme case. She did, however, neglect to do a lot of things a mother is supposed to do, so that has contributed to Jim's upbringing. Next chapter you'll get a taste of how she sees him. Trust me, you don't necessarily have to physically hit someone to leave lasting scars...

On a happier note, thank you ALL who took the time to read and review; it makes me feel warm inside. And I am overjoyed at the ideas that keep coming to me; usually I have to pick my brain like crazy for some ideas. But this story is taking a life of its own, and that's why I decided to take a break from "Collide" for awhile, I so could go with the flow from the plotlines that keep overtaking me for this story. Again, thank you for reading and reviewing; I love to write, but it helps me out to know you guys enjoy reading it. To writers everywhere, this makes all the difference. Thanks.

_-Until l8ter, ciao!_

_TrekkieGirl12_


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